


Envy

by Snowbazzz_lyf



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Baz is kinda an asshole in this one, Breakups, Brief BazxMaleOc, Cuddles, Ian is a bean, Jealous and oblivious Simon, Jealousy, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Simon and Baz love each other but keep messing shit up, Simon taking care of Baz, So much angst, bed sharing, drunk baz
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-24
Updated: 2019-08-02
Packaged: 2020-07-18 01:30:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19966516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snowbazzz_lyf/pseuds/Snowbazzz_lyf
Summary: The moment Baz decided to date someone else to get over Simon, he knew he was fucked because while his feelings didn't go away, he involved another person in his mess.When Simon discovers Baz kissing his boyfriend, he can't understand why he gets so bothered. He can't be jealous of Baz, can he?And what will happen when things get too serious and mistakes, blunders and emotions will run askew?





	1. Who am I even jealous of?

**Author's Note:**

> This is one of the weirdest ideas I have had but okay. Why not?

**BAZ**

**  
** I glance at my wrist watch and then sigh. I think it's time I start getting dressed.

I have got an important date today or to be more accurate, a kind of a celebratory date because it's been one year of me and Ian being together. One year of me desperately trying to fall in love with him and throwing Simon fucking Snow out of my bloody mind and get over him. It hasn't worked. Crowley, it hasn't. It's not that Ian is not good. He is a great boyfriend, as boyfriends go, but he is _Ian_ , not Snow.

I started dating Ian after I confessed to Fiona that I had a hopeless crush on someone. Of course I didn't tell her that the _someone_ is actually Simon or I am not just crushing on him, I am madly in love with him. Fiona tried to pry the name of the bloke out of me, but I stayed tight lipped. In the end, she accepted defeat and told me that I could try dating someone else. Maybe he would help me get over my crush.

I wasn't too crazy about the idea. I didn't like using anyone like that at all but I was so sick and tired of seeing Snow dancing around with Wellbelove everywhere and looking at me with suspicion when I so much as _glanced_ at his girlfriend that I decided to finally give dating a shot.

I don't regret dating Ian. He is great. He is one year below me and is also an intellectual, so it's fun talking to him about history and magical spells and he has a good sense of humour. He is quite handsome too, with sandy brown hair and green eyes. He is also a fucking great kisser, and a distraction when I need to get away from Snow and his bronze curls and his blue eyes and his moles and freckles. If I had not already been head over heels for Snow, I would have had easily fallen in love with Ian.

Since I am pretty fucking sure I am not ever going to get Snow, I am not going to let Ian go, atleast I am not going to be the one who will break up. If he ever wants to, then I am not going to stop him, of course.

Aleister Crowley, my thoughts are so fucking messed up. I don't even know what I am feeling or thinking. I can't think straight.

There is a knock at the door and I startle, snapping out of my thoughts. I know Ian was going to pick me up for the date, but isn't it too early right now? We aren't supposed to leave for another hour. Maybe it's not him then.

I open the door and to my surprise, I find Ian. He is already dressed up in a baby blue jumper and jeans, his hair slicked back. He gives me a warm smile before standing up on his toes (he is shorter than me by at least five inches) and kissing my cheek softly.

“Hey, babe.”

“Hey. Aren't you a little early?”

I step aside and he enters my room. Snow is not in here right now, thank fuck. Probably off on some heroic adventure with Bunce and his darling girlfriend. Who fucking cares? (I do.) (Fuck, I hope he is okay.) (Shit. I should not be thinking about Snow.) (And I absolutely should _not_ be hoping that he is alright.)

“I guess, I am.” Ian says, closing the door behind him and stepping closer to me, his voice dropping and sounding low and husky. “But I wanted to see you before our date.”

“Couldn’t control yourself, huh?” I ask, smirking.

“Shut up, Baz.”

“Make me.”

He closes the distance between us and pulls me down in a kiss, his lips familiar and warm and sweet as always. He moves his lips against mine with slow and deliberate movements, his tongue dancing with mine. His hands have found their way to my shirt and he pushes his fingers through it, his palms tracing the skin of my torso.

I wonder how it would feel like to kiss Snow... Would he kiss like Ian? Slow and soft and sensual? Or would it be different, completely unexpected and bold, like him?

I shiver and gasp as Ian bites my bottom lip, his hands roaming on my chest all the while. Crowley, this feels _really_ fucking good. I really wish Snow had been the one who had been kissing me like this.

Shit, I shouldn't be thinking about Snow. I am kissing my _boyfriend_ , for fuck's sake. I should be thinking about Ian. Not Snow. Crowley, I should not be thinking about Snow or his lips or his eyes or-

“Baz? Are you alright.”

Ian has drawn back, his hands are still on my chest but he looks confused, worried, even a little hurt. Fuck.

“Of course, babe. You kiss so well, I just forget how to function.” It's a lame excuse, I know, but I am kind of panicking right now.

“Bu- Whoa!”

I pick up Ian by his waist and place him on my desk, so that our heads are on the same level now, before I press my lips to his again. Merlin and Morgana, I just really fucking want him to keep kissing me and eventually make me think only about him and chase away all thoughts of Snow from my mind.

He forgets about my distraction and starts kissing me with the same enthusiasm. This time, he slides his long and deft fingers through my hair, clutching handfuls of it and mussing it up. I am standing between his legs, my hands on his hip, holding him in place, squeezing his arse. He keeps making little helpless sounds in my mouth and I swallow them all. 

Eventually, Ian's fingers travel to my chest again, but instead of pushing them through my shirt, he starts unbuttoning it, fumbling a little every once in a while. He breaks off and I let the shirt slip down my shoulders, onto the floor. Ian has seen me without a shirt before, but he is looking at me and my bare chest like this is the first time. It's flattering and I smirk at him.

“Like what you see?” 

“No. You're revolting.” He whispers, eyes still roaming over my torso, breath ragged. 

Then he is pulling me towards him and instead of kissing my mouth, he starts kissing my jaw, soft kisses trailing down to my collar bone, and his hands are around my waist, making me shiver at his touch, then clutch his shoulders tightly, almost painfully. If only this was Simon...

I gasp at the sudden feeling of equal parts of pain and pleasure as Ian works on my collar bone, peppering the area where he has given me a hickey with kisses. I like how his tongue moves there, his hot breath fanning my neck, making me moan. Crowley, this really fucking feels so good.

There is a clang and I jump and we seperate so quickly, it's like I teleported away. Snow is standing in the doorway, his mouth slightly open as he ogles at me, open mouthed. He is covered in blood and grime and sweat and his sword is lying on the floor. He must have had dropped it.

I see how his eyes travel over me and something flickers in them. He looks embarrassed at interrupting, but shocked too. There is another expression in there, but I can't quite place it. I have never seen it there before. I wonder what he is thinking, seeing me like this; shirtless, hair all mussed up, lips probably swollen from kissing and a hickey on my collar bone.

I raise an eyebrow at him, not the least bit ruffled, and he seems to snap back into action. His cheeks have turned bright red and he might be a right sight now, but I still think he looks fucking gorgeous.

“So- sorry.” He stutters. “I didn't- I mean- I wasn't- I just thought- I really-”

He stops speaking, saving himself from further embarassed stuttering, and picks up his sword before he leaves the room quickly.

“He ruined the mood.” Ian grumbles, scowling at the door through which Snow just left.

“I guess. I think I should clean up now, or we will be late for our date.”

He kisses my cheek and nods.

I really fucking wish I could fall in love with Ian.

I wish my heart had not flown right after the boy who just left.

**SIMON**

I can't get Baz out of my mind.

I can't specifically get how he looked when I walked in on him and his boyfriend making out. I have never seen him look as disheveled. I have always seen him look posh and pristine and clean. Never a hair out of place, uniform always in order, a sneer always plastered on his face.

I have to admit, he looked rather... attractive... No that's not quite how he looked. He looked hot. Really fucking _hot_.

I shake my head and rest it against a tree. I am in the courtyard, still looking like shit, but there is no fucking way I am going back to my room until I am sure Baz has left. I don't want to face him again and I sure as hell don't want to walk in on him making out with someone.

I have put away my sword and I am playing with the pebbles lying around me, trying not to think about Baz, instead trying to focus on this latest mission by the Mage. The Humdrum is growing stronger and... And..

 _Baz_.

Merlin and Morgana, I really should stop thinking about him. I also should really stop feeling- feeling angry? Because I am upset. I am really fucking upset right now. It's not that I have never seen Baz or Ian together before. I have seen them hold hands. I have seen them kiss (though not how they were kissing today). I have seen them be affectionate towards each other.

And everytime, I felt something. Anger, sadness, bitterness and a desire to punch Ian. But never quite as strong as what I feel today. I don't think I am jealous. What is there to be jealous about?

Who am I even jealous of?

I don't fucking know.

I just really don't know.

I can only think... What if I had been the one who had been perched on that desk? What if I had been the one who had given Baz that hickey? What if I had been the one who had kissed the living hell out of him? What if I had been the one who had made him moan against my mouth and let him come undone under my hands?

 _Shit_.

Shit shit shit.

I should stop thinking like this. I have Agatha. I have a fucking girlfriend. I am not even gay, at least I don't think I am. I should not think about making out with my arch nemesis in my room and ruining his perfectly slicked back hair or giving him love bites or roaming my hands over his well defined chest.

I don't know why I am not thinking of Agatha. Things had been great for us in our fifth and sixth year but something shifted this year, I don't exactly know what. We are more distant, more formal. We don't have the easy chemistry Ian and Baz have. I hold her hand not because I genuinely want to, but because it's the thing couples do. We kiss because we are supposed to. I don't remember the last time I kissed Agatha the way Ian was kissing Baz.

I don't know if I am feeling jealous of their relationship or if I am feeling jealous of Ian.

I should really fucking stop thinking about Baz and his swollen lips which had looked so inviting.

I should just stop thinking at all.

**BAZ**

I enter my room late at night. Although Ian had gone back to his room a few hours back, I decided to linger in the Catacombs for a while. Ian doesn't know about my vampirism and I don't plan to tell him either.

The date had been enjoyable, with the two of us having an outdoor picnic in the great lawn and then taking a walk in the courtyard when the drawbridge had gone up. I like spending time with Ian, I really do, and I liked our date today but my mind would keep wandering to Snow.

I can't quite get his expression out of my mind, equal parts shocked, embarassed and... Anger? Hurt?... Jealousy?

I don't really fucking know what I saw.

As I close the door behind me, I see that he is still awake, reading his Greek textbook on his bed. He has cleaned up now and he smells faintly of the soap he uses, the one which makes him smell like a hospital. His hair, which was grimy and sweaty earlier, is falling in front of his forehead in soft curls. I want to touch his hair and curl my fingers in there.

Snow looks up and when he sees me, he looks a little flustered, his face turning red. He clears his throat awkwardly.

“He-hey Baz. Uhh I am sorry, you know, for-”

I wave my hand, turning away from him.

“It's alright, Snow. You couldn't have known.”

I sound way too civil, fuck. I should probably say something awful now but I find myself unable to. Curse him and his curls.

He nods, still looking flustered, and then he closes his book and sets it on his desk. I take my clothes out and go into the bathroom to change without another word or glance.

When I return, I see that he has already switched off the lights and is prepared for bed. I crawl under the sheets myself and as I settle down, Snow says, “So uhh how was your date?”

I know he can't see me right now, in the dark, yet I raise my eyebrows in complete surprise. Since when did Snow and I started to ask each other about our love lives?

Every instinct in me tells me to give him some rude answer to shut him up but in the end, I just sigh and say, “It was good.”

“Oh. Oh I see. Well good night then, I guess.”

I don't reply to him, instead, I watch him. In the dark, he can't see me staring creepily at him so I can stare at him as much as I want to.

But I am not the only one who can't sleep and can't stop staring because as long as I stay up, I see Simon Snow staring back at me from his bed, his eyes narrowed, but not in suspicion. He probably can't even see that I am looking at him as well.

Crowley, this boy has fucked up my life proper and well.


	2. I love you too, Simon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ian sinks deeper into my arms and mumbles, “I love you, Baz.”
> 
> “I love you too, Simon.”
> 
> Or the chapter where Baz finally slips up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well my heart. I feel so bad for Ian. This chapter was supposed to be much longer but I broke it up in two. So this fic has now four chapters, out of which the last one is for Ian, the OC I have fallen in love with.
> 
> Chapter starts in eighth year, btw.

**BAZ**

It’s unnecessarily grandiose to use an Open Sesame on the doors, but I do it anyway because I know everyone will be in the dining hall, and I may as well make an entrance.

My eyes sweep the dining hall without me turning my head and I see that Snow is standing up, staring at me open mouthed, like some half wit numpty. His side kick, Bunce, is trying to pull him down. Huh, where is Wellbelove?

And, goodness, where is Ian?

Before I can even turn my head to search for him, a pair of arms throw themselves around my neck with force, almost making me lose my balance and fall over. I wrap my hands around Ian's waist without even thinking, breathing in his familiar sweet scent, and feeling glad. I missed him. I really did.

He has buried his head in my neck and he is shaking. I feel his tears dampening my shirt and to reassure him, I hold him a bit more tight and kiss the top of his head. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a girl sitting nearest to us bring her hands over heart and melt right then and there. 

“Ian, babe, I am here.”

“I hate you.” He croaks out, still shaking and not even lifting his head. “I missed you so much. _Where_ were you? Are you alright? What-”

“Babe, I am here and I am okay. I will answer your questions later. Can we have some breakfast now? I'm kind of hungry.”

He nods and finally lets go of me. His eyes are still damp and he rubs them, before shaking his head and smiling a little at me. He stands on his tiptoes and kisses me softly, only for a moment, before he holds my hand and leads me to my table where Dev and Niall are already sitting and eating their breakfast.

The entire dining hall reeks of Snow's magic right now. I lift my head and see that he is still standing, so I sneer at him and he flushes, his jaw set and his eyes blazing. Bunce looks sick, and she passes a hand over her face, unable to handle the intensity of his magic. He gives me a glare before he picks up his stuff and stalks out of the dining hall, fuming. Bunce follows him a minute later.

At a table not far from them, Wellbelove sits alone, toast in her hand, which has frozen halfway to her mouth and she is staring at me as well. I raise an eyebrow at her and she turns pink before she hastily looks away and starts chewing again. Hmm, Snow and her are not sitting together. Trouble in paradise?

Meanwhile, Ian has wrapped an arm around my waist and he sits close to me, like he is never going to let me out of his sight again. And knowing him, he probably really won't. Normally, he eats breakfast with his friends while I eat mine with Dev and Niall but I guess today is an exception. He kisses my cheek fondly and sets a plate full of food in front of me and I try not to eat it too ravenously. I am a Pitch, after all, and I have a reputation to uphold.

As I eat, Dev and Niall fill me in about what all happened in Watford while I had been away. Nothing very special, apparently, except that Snow had been stalking around in a foul mood and had been constantly harassing them for answers about my whereabouts.

“If I didn't know that he hated you,” Niall says, nodding along with Dev, “I would have said that Snow was actually kind of missing you. Almost as much as Ian was.”

Ian chuckles and shakes his head before he rests it on my shoulder and exhales shakily. “I really missed you, Baz.”

“I missed you too.” I am not lying. I did miss him. He looks up and gives me a dopey smile and I allow myself a small one too. Niall and Dev roll their eyes, looking like they are going to be sick.

“We better get going.” Niall says and gives the two of us a look. Dev nods and the two of them get up, pick up their stuff and leave the dining hall.

“Where were you?” Ian asks once they have left, worry evident in his tone.

Like hell I am going to tell him or anyone else that I had got kidnapped by fucking numpties. Best to avoid that question for now.

“We will talk about this later, alright? Please?”

Ian gives me a long look before he sighs in resignation and nods. “Alright.” A minute later, he continues,

“Baz, you have got a lot of catching up to do. Do you need my help? I am ahead of my class in Astrology and maybe I can help you out there. I guess I can help you borrow notes from Penelope as well, I mean she is the second best, isn't she? You will need help catching up and being at the top of the class again and I can try my best to help.”

Sometimes I am really so fucking grateful that I have Ian. I squeeze his hand and say, “Thank you so much. Really, it means a lot.”

“No problem, love.”

And sometimes I really feel so fucking _guilty_ for using him. He deserves so much better.

As I finish eating, Ian gathers my stuff and then walks with me to my Greek lesson. I walk slowly and hide my limp as much as I can and he doesn't notice, thankfully.

“Take care, Baz. I will talk to you later, okay?” He says as we reach the classroom. I nod and he kisses my cheek in farewell before he goes for his lesson. I watch his retreating form, my heart sinking.

He deserves someone so much _better_ than me.

When I enter, Snow stands up again and I curl my lips at him. I wish I didn't love him. I wish that when death seemed inevitable to me, Simon had not been the one who had kept me anchored to life.

I hate that I love him.

* * *

I am completing my homework later that evening in my room when there is a knock at the door. Must be Ian, he told me he was going to visit.

I open the door and sure enough, he is there, smiling brightly.

“Hey.”

Instead of replying he kisses me lightly and then steps inside. He is carrying some notebooks with him, bless him. They must be the notes.

“Here. I got you notes for History, I nicked them off from Penelope and made a copy of them.”

“Crowley. Thank you so much, Ian.”

“You are welcome. Now.”

He steps closer to me and hugs me again. “Don't you fucking leave like that again or I will not help you the next time.”

I laugh. 

“I will keep that in mind.”

He sinks deeper into my arms and mumbles, “I love you, Baz.”

“I love you too, Simon.”

It takes me a moment to realise what I just said. I feel Ian still in my arms, his breath stopping in his throat. He steps back, his eyes wide and he looks like he has been struck.

There is a long silence in which I can hear my panicked heartbeats and Ian's shallow breathing.

_“Wh-what did you just call me?”_

**SIMON**

I open the door to my room and I am about to enter inside when I see Ian and Baz standing in front of each other. _Shit_. I don't know what they are doing and I absolutely fucking don't want to see them kissing or just being in love right now.

Now, when I have realised that I am in love with Baz. That the very reason I broke up with Agatha is because I am in love with my bloody roommate.

I step back and I am about to get my arse out of here when I see their expressions. Baz looks panicked, terrified and Ian looks like he has been slapped, shell shocked.

“Wh-what did you just call me?”

I know I shouldn't evesdrop but I am intrigued. I take one more step back so that I am out of their view but not out of earshot.

The silence stretches on and Ian yells, “Answer me!”

“Simon. I called you Simon.” Baz whispers.Then, “Ian-”

“Shut up! Are you- are you _cheating_ on me? Is that why you were away, because you were cheating on me?”

“No! I am not- Ian I would _never_ cheat!”

“Then why in the name of fuck did you call me Simon? Why did you say, _I love you too, Simon?”_

I am aware of my own breathing, rapid and harsh. Baz said _what_?

“Ian-”

“I just want a fucking answer, Basilton. Why. Did. You. Call. Me. Simon?”

“Because-” Baz's voice falters. I have never heard him hesitate while speaking before. When he finally pushes the words out, they are so soft, it's barely audible and I have to strain my ears to listen. “Because that is the truth. I _am_ in love with Simon.”

I am covering my mouth with my hand, disbelief and utter shock running through my entire body. What I just heard- I can't believe it's true. I _can't_ believe my ears.

There is a long silence and I can't hear anything more. I don't know if Baz is speaking the truth but if he is, then my heart goes out to Ian right now.

And I also should really stop feeling hopeful.

“Then why-” Ian's voice is breaking, shaking as he sobs out. “Why were you dating me? You wanted to have fun? Do you- do you think it's _funny_? To play with- with my feelings? Is that how it- was? Fo- for you? You didn't ca- _care_?”

“Ian.” He sounds on the verge of tears himself. “I like you, I care for you deeply but my heart... It just- it just always belonged to Simon. I am so sorry. Please, Ian-”

“Then that's why you were dating me. You wanted to get over him. You never actually liked me. You were- you were just _using_ me.”

Baz doesn't answer and by what I hear and my shell shocked mind can make out, both of them are crying.

“You selfish, cold blooded son of a bitch.” Ian sobs out, “Never, ever show me your fucking face again or I swear to God, I will rip out your throat. I hate you. I-”

His rage filled shouts turn feeble as I hear him dissolve in tears again.

“I _hate_ you so fucking much, _Basilton Pitch_.”

Ian spits out the last words venemously and I realise that he must be leaving now. I hastily try to leave but I am not fast enough because Ian catches me at the door.

He looks wrecked, eyes bloodshot and face blotchy. He is breathing rapidly and when he sees me, his face twists in violent rage but he doesn't do anything to me except shove me out of his way and he storms away.

Baz hears the commotion and he steps out of the room, his face going slack when he sees me. He looks the worst I have ever seen him. He was already looking weak and sickly when he returned this morning but now he is like a fucking disaster. Thin, greyish, eyes swimming with tears and his face drenched in it.

“How much did- how much did you hear?” He snarls at me, looking terrifying. I am unable to utter even a single word.

My silence conveys the message and Baz's face twists up in anger even more, if that was possible.

“Why can't you ever leave me the fuck alone? What is your fucking problem, Snow? Just- just go. Just fuck right off. Leave me alone. For fuck's sake, _leave me alone_!”

I stumble backwards as his voice rises in volume to a shout. Then without another word, I do as I am told. I leave him alone.


	3. Please Don't Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm about to turn away from him when he grabs my wrist, almost painfully tight, and says in a hoarse and croaky voice, “Please don't go.”  
> \--  
> Baz gets drunk and Simon takes care of him after which, they talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Super long chapter and took me a long time to get it right. Oh and the angst fest will continue. Also, thank you all for the lovely comments on the previous chapter. I loved every one of them!

**BAZ**

For a moment, I consider running after both Simon and Ian and falling at their feet and begging for forgiveness. But I can only just stand where I am, my mind still reeling with the shock of what just happened. I can't believe it. I can't believe how badly and stupidly I fucked up.

My breath comes out shallow and ragged and it feels like I'm inhaling fire, I cannot stop crying and pulling at the ends of my hair in frustration and I'm so angry. I'm so angry at myself.

_Selfish cold blooded son of a bitch._

That's what Ian had called me and he is not wrong. That's what I am. A selfish bastard, a complete _monster_. I can't believe it. I am so ashamed of myself. For fucking up, for using him, for being awful. For shouting at Simon.

And oh Crowley, Simon heard _everything_. He heard everything and now he knows I love him. He knows how I used Ian. He must hate me so much. _I_ hate myself so much.

I just want it to stop. I want to stop crying and I want everything to go back to normal.

There is a glass on my table and I am seized with a sudden and violent rage before I pick it up and throw it against the wall with as much force I can manage, where it shatters, its pieces flying across the room. I want to destroy everything in my sight. I pick up my chair and smash it hard on the floor and watch how it breaks. I throw my books about and tear out its pages in a mad frenzy. I want to tear apart everything, the furniture, this room, Mummers, Watford, piece by piece. 

I stand panting in the middle of my room when I am done and it has never looked worse before, with half of my possessions lying about broken or completely demolished. Yet, I am not calm, my anger still pulsing through my blood. I am still crying like I was. I still can't stop panicking about how Simon knows and probably thinks of me as a vile, disgusting person. I still can't get Ian's heartbroken expression out of my mind.

It's fruitless staying in my room, lamenting at the destruction I have done, of both my furniture and my relationship with Ian, so I decide to go somewhere, where I can get some comfort. Not the Catacombs. I can't face my mother, she would hate me for what I did and I also don't want to suck the blood out of anyone today. I'm already enough of a monster.

Instead, I find myself stumbling down the stairs and towards where Dev and Niall live. I can't and I won't tell them everything but they are good men and my only friends and they will comfort me.

I bang at their door with both of my fists, not giving a damn about the commotion I am making. Everyone can go and fuck themselves, I don't care.

“Jesus fuck what's your problem-” I hear Dev grumble as he opens the door but the moment he take a look at me and my tear stained face, he stops speaking and the annoyed expression he was wearing earlier gets replaced by a deeply concerned one.

“Fucking Crowley, Baz, what the _hell_ happened to you?”

I open my mouth to say something but only a dry sob comes out. I can't, for the life of me, speak. I can't tell him. Dev, who looks positively alarmed, quickly steps aside and ushers me in, closing the door behind me firmly.

Niall, who had been lounging on his bed and reading a book, gets up when he sees me and his jaw drops.

“Baz! What happened?”

My knees finally give away and I sink onto the floor, shivering all over.

“Ian and I... We broke up.”

“ _What?!_ How-”

“But you two seemed fine today-”

“More than fine, I might say-”

“Did you two have a fight-”

“Is it just-”

“Did he-”

“Was it Ian? Did he hurt you-”

The idea of Ian hurting me is so absurd, I start laughing, though I can hear no humour in it. It's hysterical, it's mad. Dev and Niall stop bombarding me with questions and look at each other and then at me, worry lining their faces.

“Ian would- would _never_ hurt me. Do you know that? He wouldn't ever. No. It's- it's all my fault. I am an arsehole. I- I'm the one who is to be blamed. It's all my fucking fault because I am so fucking stupid and- and I am just-”

“Did you- did you cheat on him?” Dev asks softly.

“No! No I am _not_ a cheater. I'm-”

I shake my head and they know better than to ask me anything else.

“You want to talk?” Niall asks and I shake my head. I don't want to do anything. I just want to forget this.

“You're a fucking disaster, Baz.” Dev sighs and I couldn't agree more.

**SIMON**

I had returned to my room two hours after Baz had asked (asked is too polite, I think.) me to leave. I had run all the way to the Wavering Woods and had summoned my sword. 

I had practiced with it till my arms got so numb, I couldn't even lift them. I was sweaty and tired and in so much pain. I think I was crying too, but I am not sure why. Maybe because my arms hurt like they had never before, maybe because my heart hurt whenever I thought of Baz. Maybe both.  
All I know is that when I finally dragged myself to my room, Baz hadn't been there and he had left in his wake his destroyed belongings. He had broken his chair, shattered pieces of glass were scattered on the floor, torn pages were lying about the room and in the midst of all it, charred up notebooks.

I cleaned up most of it and gathered the torn pages and placed them on Baz's desk because I knew he would need them later. I didn't repair the chair, though, because I was positive I wouldn't be able to. Magic has never been my strong suit despite the fact that I am supposed to be the most powerful mage alive.

I had taken a shower after that and my body and aching limbs had cried in relief as the warm water had soothed me down a little. I had felt cleaner then, calmer. But no matter what I did, the pain wouldn't go away. The pain I felt whenever I remembered Baz's or Ian's face wouldn't go away.

I had settled down in my bed soon after, tired, exhausted and completely drained but not at all sleepy. I would keep thinking about Baz and how I knew that he loved me and how I knew that _I_ loved him but he is such a disaster, he fucked it all up.

I had thought of going to Catacombs to search for him but in the end, I had decided against it. He had wanted me to leave him alone and I knew better than to do otherwise.

It's almost midnight now and he is still not back. I'm getting worried and anxious. What if he has hurt himself? I wouldn't put it past him, considering all the damage he did to our room today. _Shit_. He is definitely hurt. I should go and search for him.

I jump out of my bed, feeling panicky. What if I'm too late? I don't want anything bad to happen to him. I just want him to be back here where I know that no one is hurting him and he is not hurting anyone.

I startle when I hear the door open and sure enough, Baz steps inside, looking completely unharmed, thank Crowley. But... But something is wrong with him. He doesn't walk like that and his eyes, his mouth... There is something weird about him.

Frowning, I step closer and it doesn't take me long to I realise what is wrong. He is drunk. Completely, utterly, fucking wasted. I don't even know how he got his hands on alcohol, it's banned at Watford. I just know that he is standing in the doorway like a lost child and he is so drunk, he is probably going to throw up anytime now.

He takes one more step and now I can smell it on him, he reeks of alcohol. His eyes are unfocused and half lidded and when he sees me, he blinks before he slumps forward and I hastily move ahead to catch him, lest he fall and hurt himself.

He leans completely on me and I lead him to his bed, where he flops down ungracefully. Wordlessly, I pour him a glass of water.

While he dutifully drinks the water, I go to his closet and take out some of his clothes so that he can change. All the while, his eyes follow me around and he is so quiet, it's kind of unnerving.

He takes the clothes and when he fumbles with his shirt, I sit down in front of him and help him unbutton it and put on his pajama top, and then, I help him with his silk pajama bottoms. Of course they are posh as hell. I can't understand the fuss over bloody pajamas.

It feels so weird, helping Baz undress and change, and so intimate in a way I can't explain. It's like I know a part of him now, without it being sexual and just- just caring. I guess I like helping him.

When I have finally tucked him safely in his bed, I decide it's time for me to go to my bed as well because I can't do anything more than this. He will probably get up sooner or later to throw up and I will surely help him, but till then, this is all I can do. Baz is still watching me with his grey eyes, not blinking once.

“Goodnight.” I whisper softly, getting up from where I had been crouching next to him.

I'm about to turn away from him when he grabs my wrist, almost painfully tight, and says in a hoarse and croaky voice, “Please don't go.”

He sounds so painfully raw and honest, I find myself compelled to stay, but I can't say anything. My mouth feels dry, suddenly, and I bite my bottom lip as I stare at him.

“Please don't go.” He says again. “I- I know that you hate me and- and I know I am an awful and shitty person but please, Simon. Just for- just for this once, please don't go.”

Tears are flowing down his face now as he holds my wrist, not wanting to let go of me. My heart is breaking as I crouch down again and bring my other hand to wipe his tears. He is just a boy. He made a mistake, a colossal mistake, but _he is just a boy._

“Okay. I will stay. For as long as you want me to, I will stay.”

He nods gratefully and then scoots back a little, clearing a space in his bed. “Come here. Please?”

I gulp before I nod. The bed is hardly big enough for the two of us but I climb into it, nonetheless. I don't know what is happening, what we are doing. If there was any doubt in my mind of Baz not being piss drunk, it's all cleared up now because a sober Baz would never ask me to stay.

He snuggles close to me, burying his face in my chest, arms going around my waist, like he is never going to let go of me. I hesitate but only for a second, before I wrap my arms around him as well. Our legs and arms get tangled up together and underneath all the alcohol, I can smell his familiar scent of Cedar and Bergamot. The bed, which previously appeared to be too small for us, is now big enough.

“Please don't go. I know you hate me, but please don't go.” He whispers again.

I bury my face in his hair and softly, I murmur, “If you think that I hate you, then you couldn't be more wrong.”

**BAZ**

I wake up to a pounding headache and would have had groaned out loud if I hadn't been feeling a little smothered. I don't have the energy to open my eyes, so I just keep them closed. Through the redness of my eyelids, I can make out that it's almost dawn by now.

Dev and Niall generally keep illegal stuff like alcohol, moblie phones, etc. with them because apparently, their “fuck the Mage” aesthetic is stronger than mine. In any case, I remember drinking heavily and stopping only when Dev threatened to throw me out to the merwolves. The trip to my room is hazy, though I clearly remember all that happened to me once I got in here.

I remember falling forward when I saw Simon and him catching me in his strong arms and I remember him taking me to my bed and helping me settle down and I remember him giving me a glass of water and helping me change and-

_Oh fuck._

I remember grabbing his wrist in a moment of weakness and desperation and asking him to not go. I remember wrapping my arms and legs around him and I remember him copying my actions. And this also explains why I am feeling so warm and a little smothered because I'm most definitely curled up close to Simon Snow.

I am afraid to open my eyes for a moment, afraid that once I will open them, I will realise it was actually just a dream and Simon is on the opposite bed and he still hates the fuck out of me.

In the end, the suspense gets too much for me to bear and I crack open my eyelids a little and the sight of a sleeping, open mouthed Simon greets my eyes.

Gladness wells up in the bottom of my stomach, up to my chest and suddenly I am warm all over. I can't believe this. I can't believe I'm actually in the arms of Simon.

The next moment, however, it's replaced with unparalleled guilt and shame. Here I am, sleeping peacefully in the arms of the boy I love while Ian is in so much pain, so much trauma, all because of me. How can I allow myself to enjoy this, when Ian is out there and suffering because of me?

I almost draw back and push Simon away but the pull of him and the longing for him is so strong, it outweighs everything else. So I just stay put, with my mind half screaming in agony and half sighing with contentment.

Simon helped me so much and when I felt sick in the middle of the night and threw up, he helped me then too, holding back my hair from my face while I heaved my insides out and then bringing me water. If you think about it, then it's not really my fault that I am so madly in love with him.

I'm so close to him, I can see all of his moles and freckles and I long to kiss all of them but I dare not. Instead I lift my hand from his waist and gently touch his face and move my fingers over his freckles and moles, tracing an invisible line and connecting them.

Slowly, his eyes start to flutter and I almost squeeze my own shut because I am afraid of what I will see in his blue ones. Hate? Disgust? Horror? I don't know. But in the end I keep mine open because I want to see him look at me. I want to see his reaction.

When he finally opens his eyes, I find confusion in them for a moment before he blinks and when he sees me, he smiles and there is only softness in them.

I love him so much.

“Hello.” He breathes, his arms tightening for a second around my waist.

“Hey.”

“I see you are not drunk anymore.”

“Astute observation skills, Snow.”

He gives a breathy laugh and the sound is so beautiful, I never want it to stop. He grows silent again and regards me seriously. I know I am fucked now because this conversation is going where I absolutely didn't want it to go.

“Baz, did you- are you- are you really in love with me?”

I can only nod. What more can I do?

Simon rests his forehead against mine and whispers, “That's good because I love you too.”

**SIMON**

Baz stills completely in my arms and his eyes snap up to mine, disbelief shining in them. There is a brief flash of joy in them before it's replaced by something darker and his entire face crumples.

“I- I wish you didn't.”

“What?!”

I try not to feel hurt at his words but it's impossible not to. What does he mean by that?

“Yeah. Yeah, Simon. You don't deserve to be in love with me, a complete _monster_ like me.”  
His voice breaks and a single tear flows down from his eye. A moment later, he is disentangling himself and sitting up, wiping away his tears, which are falling rapidly now, and I follow his suit, sitting up hastily as well.

“ _Baz_ -”

“No. Don't you see what I am? Who does such awful things? I am a monster, both literally and figuratively.” He is almost spitting out his words now, half angry and half miserable. “Haven't you been trying to prove that I am a vampire since forever? You were right, Simon. I am. And I am also an awful person who uses people and breaks their hearts and makes them suffer and I am just- I am just a monster, Simon, don't you see? I am-”

“Baz, stop.”

I am crying as I hold his face in my hands, and his body is shaking with silent sobs, tears flowing down his face.

“I had- I had promised myself that I actually wouldn't be evil when I had realised I was a vampire.” He chokes out, shaking his head. “Look, where I am now? I am one of them, in the end, aren't I? I hurt Ian and I have hurt you so many times and you don't deserve someone like me. Simon-”

“I said, stop. Just stop speaking, Baz.”

He does.

“Baz, you are _not_ a monster, you hear me? You are not a monster. What you did, it was wrong, I know it was, but it was a mistake. A huge mistake but a mistake, nonetheless. Everyone makes mistakes, Baz, and you did too. And the fact that you feel guilty about it, you feel awful about hurting someone proves that you are not a monster because a monster wouldn't feel remorse. You do. You are not a monster. You are just a boy. You made a mistake and, Baz, that is what makes you so _human_. You are not a monster.”

I keep on repeating the same thing again and again, like a broken record, because I don't know what else to say. Baz has buried his face in my chest, still crying and shivering and I hold him close, rub his back and whisper into his ear, softly, _you are not a monster._

It takes him a long time to calm down but when he does and finally looks at me again, I can see that he is not in as much pain as he was before. I cup his face again and tap our foreheads together.

“I love you, Baz. I don't care about you being a vampire. I only that you are _you_ and you are so- so beautiful and perfect and I love you.”

He nods, his eyes never leaving my face and the ghost of a smile dancing on his lips. I wrap my arms around him and kiss his neck.

“I can't date you.” Baz mumbles, his arms around me. “Not so soon. I can't rub this on Ian's face. I don't want to hurt him more.”

“It's alright.” I whisper back. “I will wait for you as long you want me to.”

It's true. If he wants me to wait forever, I will.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The entire time I wrote this chapter, I listened to ‘I like it when you sleep for you are so beautiful yet so unaware of it' by The 1975 because it's a really nice song and I have no clue how it ties up with this chapter except I just listened to that song.
> 
> Just one more chapter left now. For my baby Ian. Hugs for this sweetheart.


	4. Like a Date?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's like I finally left Baz behind me this time. 
> 
> Or the chapter where all the loose cords are tied up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this it lads. End of this fic, the final chapter. I am an emotional wreck right now, ya all. I loved this fic and I didn't want it to end but well.
> 
> The saddest part for me is, letting go of Ian. I honestly love him so much and I just don't want to part with him ughh. But we all gotta do what we gotta do.

**BAZ**

I look around my room and feel a sense of loss. One more week and after that, never returning here again. I admit that I don't have the best memories here, at Watford, my mother's murder to start with. But it has given me so much too. Simon, for example, and I do have some good memories here. Like all the time I spent with Dev and Niall, football, being at the top of my class, Simon holding me close and telling me that I am not Satan, after all.

I have packed away most of my things, at least the ones I didn't demolish, and my room looks so bare now, it's disconcerting. It's even more difficult to imagine someone else occupying it. I wonder what kind of relationship those two boys will have, the ones who are now going to occupy this room for the next eight years. Chaotic like the one Simon and I had? Or tolerating each other, like Trixie and Bunce? Or being best friends, like Dev and Niall? I don't know. I just hope they will take care of this room...

In all honesty, I never thought I would ever even get the chance to leave because I was positive that I would be long dead before I finished Watford, killed at the hands of the boy I love, Simon Snow. But it didn't happen, the war, me dying or _him_ dying, or the World of Mages burning down to ashes. It just... never did. All thanks to Simon, his ridiculous bravery and his huge sacrifice. I owe him so much. _We_ all do.

We are dating now, too. I had been reluctant at first, but Christmas changed things.

And not just our relationship but also the whole Humdrum thing, the whole Simon and the epic showdown thing. His sacrifice. Christmas changed _everything_.

It makes me miserable when I think of Simon, because he gave me and everyone else so much and gained nothing in return, except life long trauma. It breaks my heart when I think he had to leave Watford, not because he had completed his education here but because he doesn't have magic anymore. He loved Watford and magic quite possibly as much as my mother did, and he, too, lost so much here like her.

I miss him so badly. My room doesn't feel like my room without him in it. It is especially terrible at night because I am not used to falling asleep without listening to his soft and persistent breathing or staring at him while he slept, bathed in the moonlit. Thank fuck phones are allowed now, and we talk to each other every day. At least, _I_ talk. He just listens. Sometimes, at night, he falls asleep while hearing me babble about something or the other. I like to hear him breathe when he has fallen asleep because he sounds so much at peace.

I snap out of my thoughts when there is a sudden knock at the door, sharp and precise. Huh, who could it be? No one visits me, simply because no one is close enough to me to take time out of their day for me. Dev and Niall are, but they have been mad at me ever since I told them that I have started dating Simon. (“First of all, Baz, that was a very shitty thing you did to Ian. Second, you literally ruined our entire childhood.” “And what were you _supposed_ to do with it, anyway?”)

I open the door and my jaw almost hits the floor in utter shock as I see the person standing in front of me.

 _Ian_.

I _really_ wasn't expecting him and I can now only stare at him. How long has it been since our breakup and since we last talked? Six months? Seven? I am not sure and I am clueless as to why he is here.

He is still in his uniform, his hair parted neatly, his hands crossed over his chest, his face devoid of any expression. He raises an eyebrow at me and I clear my throat awkwardly, getting to one side.

“Uh, hey, good evening. Why don't you err- come in?”

“Good evening, to you too, Basilton. I think I would rather like that. I did want to talk to you, after all.”

I nod and start preparing myself mentally for whatever he has got ready for me. Probably a verbal lashing, which wouldn't be undeserved, honestly.

He enters my room like he owns it and sits down on Simon's bed in a lazy, confident sprawl. If it had been someone else, I would have had yelled at them to move their arse from there because that bed should remain untouched as it only belongs to Simon, which is weird because it will have a new occupant soon enough. But it's Ian who is sitting there right now, and I am lacking the courage to even look him in the eye, let alone ask him to sit somewhere else. So in the end, I just sit down in front of him on my own bed, looking down at my palms like they are the most fascinating things in the entire universe.

“Cigarette?” Ian asks casually as he takes one out and lights it for himself before offering me one. I shake my head in refusal, not in the mood to smoke, and Ian shrugs in response. I didn't even know that Ian smoked. Guess we all learn something new everyday.

And honestly, he is so changed right now. I never saw him act like this before, so formal, so confident, so lazily arrogant. It is unnerving. It's like seeing a reflection of _me_ in Ian.

He bring the cigarette to his mouth and inhales deeply, closing his eyes for a moment before he exhales, blowing out the smoke slowly, while I watch him pensively.

“I heard you are dating Simon now.”

It's not a statement, it's a question and I find myself nodding silently. I glance up for a moment and see that he is nodding thoughtfully, like everything is making sense, which probably is. There is a long pause and I feel the nervousness creeping up on me. Why is he here? To smoke and ask me about Simon and our relationship?

“Why are you here?” I ask finally, unable to control my curiosity anymore. He regards me coolly with his green eyes, brings his cigarette to his lips and takes another drag.

“Pai asked me out two weeks back.” He says smoothly and my brows furrow in confusion. I don't know anyone named Pai. Seering my confused expression, Ian pauses and clarifies further, “Pai is in my year. Quite nice smart and pretty. I do believe she is a bit like you, except, I am positive she doesn't want to date me to get over someone else.”

His words, delivered calmly, feel like a backhanded blow across my face and I feel myself physically recoil.

“Ian-”

“Shut up, Basilton.” He says sharply, but his face still remains expressionless. “You asked me why I'm here and I'm going to give you my answer. Shall I continue with the hope that you won't interrupt me again?”

I nod again.

“Good. So like I said, Pai me asked me out two weeks back and I said no. I told her that it felt a little too soon for me and I did not want to unknowingly hurt her. She said she would wait, she has already been doing that for a long time, and I told her, I would like that.” He pauses, gets up and walks to the window. Then leaning against the wall, he takes in another drag and asks, “I suppose I should get over you, don't you think?”

I don't know what to say to that so I remain silent, and a few moments pass.

“Yes, I suppose I should.” He muses and answers himself and takes another drag. “That's why I am here, Basilton. I am here because I want to get over you.”

I look up, not knowing what _getting over me_ involves. A good punch in the gut? A slap across my face? Verbally reducing me to atoms? I don't know. I am ready for all of it.

“I am here because, Baz, I forgive you.”

My head snaps up and for a second I can't believe what I just heard. He wants to _forgive_ me?

“Don't look so surprised.” He says, his tone still flat, though he looks tired now. “It is so tiring, bearing a grudge against and hating someone. It's like I am always thinking about you and I don't want that. I want to be happy, you see? I think I can't get over you, till I let go of you, properly, and that involves forgiving you. A very noble sentiment, forgiveness, right?”

He gives a humorless laugh and then sighs.

“I am just saying, I am glad you are happy with Simon and are with someone who you truly love.” He is silent for a moment before something flickers in his expression and there is a ghost of a smile on his lips. “I truly am. What you did to me, Basil, was _very_ fucked up, you know? But dating you made me get to know you and you are- you are a good person, and I think you deserve to be happy, despite everything, like I deserve to be happy.”

He pushes himself off the wall and comes closer to me, looking intimidating as he towers over me, even though I am taller than him.

“You are leaving, aren't you? And I- I don't want you to think that I hate you, because I don't. There was a time I did hate you but it's hard, hating people, like I said.”

I don't think it's hard hating people. I spent nearly all my life hating the Mage, I still hate him, and I don't find it tiring. Maybe it's just Ian. I wouldn't put it past him.

He holds his hand out for me to shake and I am apprehensive, but I take his hand anyway. It's still familiar, I know every line on his palm and every joint in his fingers and the exact smoothness of it. I am almost as familiar with his hands as I am with Simon's.

He gives it a firm shake and I stand up without withdrawing my hand and now I am taller than him, though I still _feel_ smaller than him. He looks me in the eye and then smiles, a dimple appearing on his right cheek. We let go of each other's hands and he pushes his in his pocket, his other one still holding his cigarette.

“Take care, Baz, and if you and Simon ever break up, which I really hope you don't, then don't go around fucking with someone's heart.”

His tone is light, and I can see that he is not faking it. I allow myself a small smile.

“I won't, I promise, and I am so sorry. For everything.”

Sorry feels so small in the face of everything I have done to him but what more can I say? What more can I do?

“Apology accepted.” He says, inclining his head to one side. Then giving me a nod, he leaves.

**IAN**

With every step I take away from him, I feel lighter, like some weight is being taken off my chest, bit by bit. I am practically floating by the time I leave Mummers. It's like I finally left Baz behind me this time.

I lean against the wall of the tower and exhale deeply, before I pull out my wand and magic my cigarette away. I don't need it anymore, it's not like I smoke often.

Even though I feel immensely relieved now, it doesn't mean that what I did wasn't tough because it was. It was so fucking tough.

The main reason I took two weeks to show up at his room was because I was nervous as hell to meet him. I have always been someone who is not very confident in his actions or manner. It took me time to perfect that lazy, confident and expressionless drawl I used with Baz. I wanted it to be like that.

He looked so thoroughly terrified of me today, it was weirdly gratifying. I don't think I have ever seen him look afraid of me, or anyone else for that matter.

Actually, I don't think he was afraid or terrified of me. He was just very ashamed of himself and it is justified.

He was the one who had asked me out, so confidently, with that everlasting smirk on his face, and for a second I had only been able to stare at his face because _Basilton fucking Pitch_ had asked me out.

I had always had a bit of a crush on him. I think everyone did, no matter your sexuality. Baz has that effect on people. A football god, strong, ruthless, graceful, stunning to look at and with a brilliant mind. So it was a shock to me, as well as to all those girls who believed him to be straight, when he asked me out because I had always been a nobody, a guy who had just come to terms with his sexuality and realised there was nothing wrong in being pansexual and that lots of other people were like me and it was _normal_.

He made me feel so much, so many emotions, made me feel what it felt like to care about someone greatly. I should have had known that he was too good for me. Or maybe he wasn't... I don't know.

I don't regret saying yes, inspite of everything, because he made me learn something new. That people can use you. I mean of course I already knew about that, but I kind of actually _realised_ it was true after my breakup.

The first few months had been the hardest. I would see him and I would think, ' _What is so wrong with me? Why couldn't he love me? Was I not good enough?'_

I was. I am. I _am_ good enough. I just wasn't what he wanted. And when I think about it, Baz isn't what I wanted or want either.

I had been happy with him, of course, but I never felt truly at peace. It felt thrilling to date the most popular guy at Watford. He made me feel excited, left me breathless. But he never made me feel warm, safe and content. I never felt that I could have a forever with him. I hope Simon feels like he can have a forever with Baz.

My feet take me towards the library without me even thinking about it. I do love the library so much now. Professor Bunce got it stocked with decent books, not like the ones the Mage had kept, and it's very interesting to read those books. And even if I am not reading, I still go in there because it makes me feel comfortable and happy.

“Hey, Ian, wait!” I turn around in my way and see Pai coming towards me, carrying a few books of her own in her hands. She offers me a small smile and I grin right back at her. She makes me happy by just existing.

“Going to the library?” She asks.

“Yeah. I like being there.”

“Me too. It's nice, don't you think, being surrounded by books?”

I nod because I completely agree with her.

We walk together in silence for a moments, though it doesn't feel awkward or uncomfortable. It feels nice, like it's there because we want it to be there.

“Say, Pai?”

“Hmm?”

“What are your plans for this summer?”

She gives me a non committal shrug. “I dunno. My parents are thinking of going to India this year. No, not thinking. I am _positive_ we are going to India this year.”

Pai's family loves to travel. She has been to more countries than I know of and every year, she comes back to Watford with newer, wilder stories about her adventures at the country she visited that year. Sometimes, she even picks up some popular saying or phrase from some country, gets the hang of it, and converts it into a spell. It's really fucking cool.

“Huh, nice. I think I would just like to spend the entire summer lazing around, without worrying about the Humdrum.”

She laughs and I rather like that sound.

“Oh me too, but I like travelling too. It's fun to meet new people, see new cultures, that kind of stuff, you know?”

I nod. I know.

We continue to walk together and by the time we reach the library, I have made up my mind to do something.

“Uhh, Pai?”

“Yes, Ian?”

“Do you- I mean- are you free tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow?” She asks and tilts her head to one side, frowning a little. Then she nods. “Yep. I am free tomorrow. Why d'you ask?”

“I was just umm wondering... There is this really cool bookshop in the village near Watford. Have you checked it out, ever?”

“No.” She says slowly, and looking a bit confused. “I haven't.”

“Yeah- yeah okay. So umm I was thinking that- you know- maybe we could- just the two of us- could go and check it out and err- later grab lunch and you know, just- just spend time together tomorrow?”

Her eyes are very wide as she regards me with a surprised expression. “Like- like a date, Ian?”

I nod and I can feel the heat of my face. Jesus, I feel like such a tit right now. I wish I had practiced this too, like I had practiced my conversation with Baz.

“You are fucking adorable, you know that?” She asks and she is grinning from ear to ear. “I will go with you. To that bookshop and lunch.”

“Really?” I sound like a five year old but fuck that, honestly.

“Really. See you after breakfast, then?”

“Yeah. Yeah, see you.”

She gives me a wide smile and then before I know it, she had pecked me on my cheek and flitted away. My heart thumps loudly in my chest and I can hardly dare to believe that I have got a date with a girl who I like and a girl who genuinely likes me back, tomorrow.

I don't know what is it in future for me and her. I really don't. I just know that whatever it is, I look forward to it.

Maybe we will be great together, maybe we won't. All I know is that, I am ready for whatever that will come my way. I am ready for all of it.

I smile to myself as I turn away from the library and start heading towards my room, looking forward to tomorrow.

**THE END**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the moral of this fic was, if you ever have a very huge crush on someone or if you are in love with someone then you
> 
> a) Tell them and ask them the fuck out.
> 
> b) Set a forest on fire to kill yourself (make sure your crush is around) and then snog the hell out of them or
> 
> c) Accidentally slap them. This worked for me. 10/10 recommend it.
> 
> But do not, under any circumstance, date someone else. 
> 
> But all jokes aside, I am just really sad to see this fic end. I am gonna miss it.
> 
> Also Pai is named after the sweet and lovely @Pai61 whose lovely comments and constant encouragement make my day! I truly appreciate you so much, my friend.
> 
> Have a great day guys and thank you so for reading this!


End file.
